


minecraft but I need to save my best friend

by orphan_account



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Platonic Relationships, theyre best friends your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: minecraft irl kind of concept where every time a player dies and they are sent back to spawn, they are stunned and have their memories wiped for a few days. Dream has to go retrieve his friend after he is sent back to spawn. This is very wholesome and I wrote this in a platonic light! I'm not shipping the boys at all I promise! :)
Kudos: 34





	minecraft but I need to save my best friend

Rushing water raged violently in the distance, ringing subtly in his ears. The morning sun hung high in the middle of the sky and casted everything beneath it in a bright golden light. A field of flowers stretched as far as the adventurer could see. Flowers in every color of the rainbow sprouted in small clusters sprinkled generously about the field. To the far right of the fields a pair of sheep were gnawing away at the bright green grass, between the pair was a lamb no taller than the legs of the adults. The adventurer smiled as he watched them trod about slowly, as if there wasn’t a single thought between all three of them other than to eat and breathe. The adventurer smiled softly at the scene before him and felt a docile energy come over him, momentarily skewing his mission. He shook his head side to side quickly as if to kickstart his brain, jostling the heavy white mask covering most of his face as he did so. He needed to focus. There was only so much time left before he would be too late to make it back to spawn in time and perform his rescue.  
His calloused hand dove into his unorganized pack. Fingers grazed against the soft bread he had been saving for emergencies. A sharp hiss escaped past his lips as the palm of his hand raked against the head of a stray arrow that had been loose in his pack. He shuttered at the uncomfortable feeling of the shallow cut on his palm pulsing as he flexed his hand. Finally, his damaged appendage closed around the compass he had been looking for all along. The cool glass felt soothing against his fresh cut. Quickly he pulled it out and watched as the little skittish needle teetered about to hover over the crimson N. Thank god he was headed in the right direction.  
Soft grass rustled under the adventurer’s boots as he trekked onward through the field of flowers. Something about traveling alone made all the sounds around you incredibly loud, or at least made it harder to ignore the subtle sounds of the journey. To the right of the field, just past the family of sheep, was an enormous mountain that he had been quite intimidated by the first time they had walked through this field. Several cavernous openings dotted the sides of the mountains like chicken pox and the just thinking about what lay inside was enough to quicken his pace at the time.  
“Come on, those are nothing.” His friend had teased in a voice that sounded like he couldn’t believe his ears. He walked at a faster pace than the adventurer as they made their way through the biome. “Once we get some swords and some food we’ll come back and it’ll seem like nothing.”  
And of course, he had been right. The once threatening caves did seem like nothing now. The adventurer held the stem of a diamond sword in his hand. The object was heavy, and the weight of it alone communicated its fatal abilities. Somehow the cave still seemed off-putting, but in a different way. It had lost that factor of terror, and now felt more like a waste of time than anything else. After all the adventurer now walked alone, and what was the point of going alone? He pressed onward, passing the mountains, and approaching a winding river that resembled an angry snake. That angry sound of rushing water from before grew louder in his ears with every step he took. He was getting closer to spawn. The soles of his heavy leather boots hit the edge of the grass. A blunt drop was the only thing separating the adventurer from the intimidating water below. A groan of frustration escaped him as he weighed his options. He would need to jump into the river.  
Fitting his sword into the loop on his pack as not to lose it in the fray he jumped in, his body preparing for what he was about to endure. The second the water contacted his body the air was punched out of him. The water was unbelievably cold; it had to have flowed downstream from an arctic biome. His head went devoid of all thoughts and he struggled against the water for a minute before he felt his feet hit the bottom. The water quickly dirtied around him as he pounded his feet into the sandy floor of the river, pushing himself back up. He gulped in air as soon as his head broke about the surface of the water, paddling at a steady pace to the water’s edge again. He was thankful for the landscape’s gradual increase from the edge of the river on this side. He might have been out of luck if there had been another ledge.  
He pulled himself up using all his upper body strength, taking a moment to just lay on the dirt. He hadn’t been swimming long but the temperature of the water made it feel like miles of work. The sound of labored breathing was drowned out by the sound of that water, screaming in anger for not claiming a victim. The adventurer’s clothes were soaking wet and for a moment he contemplated just lying still for the rest of daylight until he was dry again. The thought of what was waiting for him just miles ahead was enough to have him scrambling to his feet once again despite the protest from his tired body.  
Wet clothes clung to his body and he cringed at the feeling. It wasn’t enough to slow him down. His fingers fumbled around the face of his pack behind his back before they closed around the handle of his sword, pulling the impressive object to the front of his body once again where it belonged. He kept his pace steady as he tread onward; he was confident his journey would be over before nightfall. The end of the flower field was in sight. Spruce trees towered in the distance like flag poles. In a thicket of berry bushes at the base of the trees a fox slept peacefully, turned on its back and breathing soundly in a sliver of golden sunlight. The adventurer, upon seeing the fox sun itself, couldn’t help but hope his clothes would dry before he headed into the shade of the trees so he wouldn’t get too cold, but persisted nonetheless. There was no time for rest.  
Before the sun had slipped too far from the center of the sky he found himself at the entrance to the forest. The dark green leaves of the trees swayed in the wind that had picked up just minutes before he had made it to the trees, which he was grateful for as the wind was warm. It had taken away the sogginess of his clothes and left a mild dampness in its place. The spot he was looking for was at the heart of the forest. Meaning he had quite a long way to go still. However, his hope to make it there before nightfall still fueled him powerfully. Trees and masses of mossy rock passed by him quickly as he trampled through the path he vaguely remembered from before. His backpack bounced on his spine with every step he took was heavy, full to the brim with incredibly heavy items. Just a few more chunks. The adventurer thought warily. Just a few more chunks, and it’ll all be worth it.  
Something bright flashed in the corner of his eye amongst the neutral palette of the biome. Something of a pale blue color popped out from behind a little heap of rocks. A corn flower. The adventurer stopped to look at it. Something melancholic and remorseful jabbed at his heart and he felt a deep dissatisfaction boiling in the pit of his stomach. Is it worth it to grab this? Maybe he won’t even remember. He pondered the delicate thing for a beat longer before stepping off of his path. He stooped down to pick it carefully, as to leave enough of the stem still attached for the flower to be comfortably carried in his large hand. He slowly secured his sword in the loop of the bag once more, carrying nothing but the flower in his hand. His eyes assessed the seemingly pointless object a final time before nodding curtly and returning to his trail.  
Before long on the trail another flashy object popped up in his peripheral vision. He tore his eyes away from the path before him and located the source of light. A little flame, flickering back and forth in the breeze. A guarded and hopeful smile turned the corners of his lips up as he ran for it as fast as he could. He was upon the torch in moments, scanning the area around it. There was no bed placed which meant he couldn’t have been here for long. He hadn’t spent much time alone. There was however a small chest nestled at the foot of a particularly tall spruce tree. The adventurer rushed to open it quickly, careful not to crush the flower in his hand as he did so. Inside the chest was some bread, a few logs, and a stone pickaxe. The adventurer sprang to his feet, looking around a final time before opening his mouth to shout.  
“Hello?” He boomed, straining hard to listen for an answer as the echo of his own voice dissipated.  
“Hello?” Came a much quieter voice from behind him, sounding unsure and frightened in comparison to the adventurer’s frantic one.  
The adventurer spun around, feeling thick tears pooling in his water line and threatening to spill over. His friend. After days of being separated he was finally right here in front of him. His dark brown hair was tussled and unkempt, not neatly pushed forward like it normally was. He was already short, but he appeared to be curling in on himself in a half-realized attempt to protect himself, after all he had no sword. There was a startled look on his face as he tried to size up the large and intimidating man before him; he didn’t recognize the adventurer yet.  
“Who are you?” His friend questioned, trying to appear brave and calm in the face of what he thought could be danger.  
The adventurer let out a breath of sudden realization. His free hand shot to his face. He groped around the smooth surface of his geography of his mask, finding the curve of the nose and pulling at it lightly. He pulled his beloved mask away from his face and slipped into his pack calmly. He hadn’t realized how scary he might look to someone who didn’t know him yet. He smiled at the shorter man before him and took a deep breath before he began to speak again.  
“I’m Dream.” The adventurer identified himself, smiling as friendly as he could. “You’re George.”  
“Oh, okay… Thank you. I couldn’t remember.” George admitted, confirming he had not been respawned long enough to regain much of his memory. “Do we know each other?”  
“Yes.” Dream laughed; the question was beyond absurd to him. “We’re best friends.”  
“Oh. How did I die?” George seemed to relax if only a little bit now.  
“You accidently broke some unstable sand and fell into a ravine.” Dream said sympathetically, dropping his pack to the floor as he spoke. He wanted to joke about how stupid of a mistake that had been for George to make, but wasn't sure how well it would be received.  
“I don’t remember it.” George sounded sad and frustrated as he spoke.  
“You will, don’t worry. It just takes a couple days.” Dream tried again to relax him, knowing what he said was true, but also knowing how scary it felt to go through the stunning process of a respawn.  
A silence passed between them as George processed the new information presented to him. His face screwed up in concentration and Dream could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried desperately to force himself to remember. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing the tears that had been collecting there. He wouldn’t have to adventure alone any longer, and the thought of having George back had the tears reforming all over again before he lowered his arm again. The sun was beginning to slip closer and closer to the horizon line. Dream knew they would have to build beds soon, but he didn’t rush. They had time.  
“This is for you.” He held the blue flower out to George.  
George studied it a moment before accepting it, and then studied it a little longer. After a minute of seemingly intense deliberation had passed a peaceful expression fell over George’s face. A small smile pulled the corners of his lips up as he admired the blooming cornflower.  
“I think this is my favorite color.” George’s voice wavered in a guessing manner as he waited for Dream to tell him if he was correct.  
“It is.” Dream smiled at the thought of his memories already starting to return to his companion.  
The sound of rushing water could no longer be heard in the distance, and it the sound of rustling grass was no longer heavy in Dream’s ears. He watched as George dropped to the floor, poking a little hole in the dirt next to his chest and sticking the flower inside before covering the hole with dirt once more. Dream smiled.  
“I feel like I missed you a lot.” George’s voice was warm and soft as he looked up to his best friend.  
“I missed you too.” Dream confirmed, laughing as he spoke. Feeling at peace now that he was no longer alone in the world.


End file.
